silence and again gave all their attention to listening as the
Artillery officer took the receiver.

'. . . That you, Major? . . . Yes, this is Arbuthnot. . . . In the
forward firing trench. . . . Yes, pretty lively . . . big stuff
they're flinging mostly, and some fourteen-pounder shrap. . . . No, no
signs of a move in their trenches. . . . All right, sir, I'll take
care. I can't see very well from here, so I'm going to move along a
bit. . . . Very well, sir, I'll tap in again higher up. . . .
Good-bye.' He handed back the instrument to the telephonist. 'Pack up
again,' he said, 'and come along.'

When he had gone No. 2 Platoon turned eagerly on the telephonist, and
he ran a gauntlet of anxious questions as he followed the Forward
Officer. Nine out of ten of the questions were to the same purpose,
and the gunner answered them with some sharpness. He turned angrily at
last on one man who put the query in broad Scots accent.

'No,' he said tartly, 'we ain't tryin' to silence their guns. An' if
you partickler wants to know why we ain't--well, p'raps them Glasgow
townies o' yours can tell you.'

He went on and No. 2 Platoon sank to grim silence. The meaning of the
gunner's words were plain enough to all, for had not the papers spoken
for weeks back of the Clyde strikes and the shortage of munitions? And
the thoughts of all were pithily put in the one sentence by a private
of No. 2 Platoon.

'I'd stop cheerful in this blanky 'ell for a week,' he said slowly, 'if
so be I 'ad them strikers 'ere alongside me gettin' the same dose.'

All this time there had been a constant although not a heavy rifle fire
on the trenches. It had not done much damage, because the Royal Blanks
were exposing themselves as little as possible and keeping low down in
their narrow trenches. But now the German rifles began to speak
faster, and the fire rose to a dull roar. The machine-guns joined in,
their sharp rat-tat-tat sounding hard and distinct above the rifles.
As the volume of rifle fire increased, so, for a minute, did the shell
fire, until the whole line of the Royal Blanks' trenches was vibrating
to the crash of the shells and humming with rifle bullets which whizzed
overhead or smacked with loud whip-crack reports into the parapet.

The officer of No. 2 Platoon hitched himself higher on the parapet and
hoisted a periscope over it. Almost instantly a bullet struck it,
shattering the glass to fragments. He lowered i